Bog Myrtle & Peat

Spring is still springing, and it’s a process that seems more dramatic each day. Curlews are queuing up to feed on the moor and the sun is almost obscured with squadrons of skylarks, pipits and fieldfares. Fresh shoots of cotton grass are soaring out of the moss, and the entire atmosphere is one of unexpected clamour and industry. Walking out to the woodcock strip to do some planting this morning, I noticed a bird that I had never seen before. I pride myself on being a bit of a bird nerd, and this unidentifiable creature frustrated me by displaying first its front, then its back, then trilling a little song, as if to say “remember these markings, because you won’t find me in any books”.

Sure enough, I returned home and flicked through my bird book twice before I could find anything even slightly similar. It was only after falling back on online resources that I felt confident enough to attempt an identification. Wheatears migrate from Africa to breed in Britain every year, and while they are more than welcome to visit the Chayne, I wish that they were a little more open when it comes to identifying themselves.